Page 11 of Stalked By the Soldier

"Cheater!" I accuse when he scoops me up and strides into the steam-filled room, his grin wicked and wide.

"Strategic advantage," he counters, kissing me hard enough to steal my breath before setting me down on the cool tiles.

The water cascades over us, hot and soothing, and our hands are everywhere at once. It's not about getting clean. It's about touching and teasing, keeping that flame between us burning bright. When he slides his fingers between my thighs, I bite back a moan, pressing into his touch.

"Brandon," I gasp, and there's a hunger in his blue eyes that tells me he's nowhere near done with me.

"Say my name again," he growls, and I do, over and over, until the sound of it becomes a mantra that rides the waves of pleasure he gives me, relentless and perfect.

Afterward, as the water turns tepid and our laughter fades to contented sighs, we wrap ourselves in towels and stroll back to the bedroom, lazy and sated. The future stretches out before us, unknown but unthreatening, because we face it together.

"Hey, Erica?" Brandon's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Never forget this, okay? Us, how we are right now. It's going to be one hell of a story to tell our grandkids."

"Grandkids, huh?" I smirk, tossing a pillow at him. "Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren't we, soldier?"

"Maybe," he admits, catching the pillow and tucking it behind his head. "But with you, I can't help thinking long term."

My heart swells, so full it might burst. We're two halves of a whole, wild and passionate and unbreakable. And as I crawl into bed beside him, pressing my body to his inked canvas, I know that this—the heat of his skin, the strength in his arms, the promise in his eyes—is where I'm meant to be.

"Long term sounds just right," I whisper, and as we drift off, wrapped up in each other, I think about all the nights yet to come. With Brandon, my soldier, every day is an adventure, every touch is a revelation, and every kiss is a vow renewed.